


Washing Off

by Chiazu



Series: Chia writes for Tumblr [8]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiazu/pseuds/Chiazu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: thominho turkish oil wrestling</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washing Off

Thomas stood off the side of a large group of people, watching as his dorm mates wrestled with each other in the grass. All of them shirtless and covered in oil. It was just one part of an all night bonfire celebrating something Thomas couldn’t bring himself to care.

 _Whoever thought of this tradition had to have been drunk off his ass._ Thomas thought to himself, smirking as one of the current competitors fell on his face. The roar of crowd grew even louder with cheering as the guy who was still standing sat on his opponent’s back, cementing his lost. He remembered one of the guys talking about how the tradition was based on some sport from some Eruasian country, but Thomas couldn’t remember what it was called. Still, Thomas was pretty sure sitting on your opponent was allowed.

Then again, they did say it was just loosely base on it. Thomas hadn’t really been paying attention when a senior was explaining the rules. He had been too busy trying to figure out how he got talked into. Part of him regretted not listening because now one of someone was standing in front of Thomas and asking him to help. A very hot someone. Without thinking, Thomas nodded his head.

"Thanks. This stuff is hard to get off alone." The guy spoke loudly over the cheering, someone else just lost. "My name is Minho. I’d shake your hand, but you know," Minho gestured at himself, laughing a bit, "the oil."

"Thomas." He shouted back, realizing he just agreed to wash off a complete stranger. As Minho began walking away, part of Thomas wanted to runaway; hide in among group of people and act like it never happened. But that would mean staying here, with all the noise and people, and Thomas didn’t really want to do that either. It didn’t take for Thomas to make up his mind.

While following Minho, Thomas recognized him as one of the sophomores from the first fight.

"You don’t have to help me if you don’t want." Minho looked over his shoulder at Thomas, grinning. "It just seemed like you didn’t want to be there. Thought you might like an excuse to leave."

"No, it’s fine. I don’t mind." Thomas briefly wondered if his discomfort was really that clear. "Anything’s better than being back there." The further they walked the quieter things got, for which Thomas was more than grateful.

Minho laughed quietly, though it was hard to hear over the cheering still coming from the crowd behind them. “Don’t like crowds, right?”

"How could you tell?" Thomas was surprised Minho knew that about him already; most people didn’t know. It wasn’t something he liked to share with others.

"By the way you were standing off by yourself, like you were trying to hide." Minho shrugged his shoulders a bit as he spoke; like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, well, just don’t tell anyone else. Most people don’t understand."

"Don’t worry." Minho turned around to face Thomas and, while walking backwards, x-ed over his heart with a finger. "Your secret is safe with me." He smiled before turning back around.

They walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before reaching the dorms. Minho lead the way to his room and the third floor. “I just need to get some things real quick.”

Thomas nodded his head and waited out in the hallway. He busied himself with reading the various fliers posted along the walls. Most of them seemed to be about the bonfire.

Someone was calling his name. Thomas turned to face Minho, his head poking out of his room. He seemed nervous about something. “I know I’m already asking a lot of you, but you do you mind doing me one more favor?”

"Course not; what is it?"

"Oh, man you are a life saver." Thomas could see Minho relax, even smiling with him. "I need to carry some things for me. Don’t want to get oil all over them." He gestured his head for Thomas to follow him inside his room.

Once inside, Thomas understood why Minho was nervous about asking him for more help. There was an open drawer, and inside he could see that Minho preferred boxers. “Sorry, I didn’t think about it before.”

"Don’t worry about it." Thomas steady his shaky hands as he walked over to the dresser. "It’s actually not the worse thing I’ve done tonight." Without bothering to really look through the underwear, Thomas grabbed the first he saw.

"Still doesn’t make it any easier for you." Thomas turned around to see Minho rubbing the back of his sheepishly. He also saw how well defined his muscles were. "I mean, we’ve only know each other for like five minutes. People should know each other longer than that before carrying their underwear for them."

Thomas titled his head to the side bit. “You asked me to help you wash off, remember?”

"Yeah; but I didn’t think you’d actually agree." Minho shook his head and  waved a hand in front of his face roughly, splattering droplets of oil everywhere. "Nevermind. Just forget I mentioned."

Shrugging lightly, Thomas grabbed the rest of Minho’s things from his bed and followed him out of the room. They walked the short distance down the hall to the restrooms and Thomas did his best to ignored how the oil accentuated Minho’s back muscles. _This guy is nothing but muscle._

"Need to get the excess off first. They practically bathe you in the stuff." Minho said as he turned on one of the showers and grabbed the wash rag from Thomas. Thomas handed him the soap next and watched as Minho poured a generous amount onto the rag. "Gotta use plenty of soap or you’ll wake up in a pool of baby oil."

Thomas nodded his head in understanding before grabbing the soap being handed back to him. “What do you need me to do?”

Minho stepped under the running, still wearing his pants; leaving the curtain open. “Uh, keep me company? Like I said,” He stuck his head to look directly at Thomas, “I just thought you needed an excuse to get away. Asking you for help was the only thing I could come up.”

"I see. What about your pants?" Thomas leaned against the counter, not sure what to say. He wasn’t good at making conversation. Even so, Thomas didn’t want to leave. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Thomas already liked Minho. Being around him was easy.

"Eh, figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and wash some of the oil out now before throwing them in with the rest of my laundry."

Thomas nodded his head. _Make sense, I guess._

After a few moments, Thomas read the back of the shampoo bottle while he listened to Minho sing. Judging by how loudly and off key he was, Thomas figured he was singing badly on purpose. It made Thomas laugh quietly to himself. “You have an amazing voice.”

"Thanks. I practice everyd-Ow, fuck!" Minho backed out of the shower, rubbing his eyes vigorously. Soap was still dripping thickly from his hair and into his hair. Thomas hurried to Minho’s side.

"Stop rubbing it; that just makes it worse."

"But it hurts." Minho whined as Thomas pulled his hands away from his face. Thomas rolled his eye heavily, holding back a frustrated sigh,

"That still doesn’t mean you should rub the soap in." Thomas started gently pushing Minho back under the spray of the water. "You just need to rinse it out."

Minho mumbled something under his breath as he let Thomas turn him as the way facing each other. Thomas then tilted his head back and guided what water he could into his eye. After some painful seconds, when he sure he wasn’t going blind, Minho opened his eyes slowly. There was still some stinging, but nothing like it was before. He could see Thomas grinning at him.

"Looks like you needed my help after all."

"Looks like."

For some reason, even though the soap was no longer there, Thomas couldn’t pull his hand away from Minho’s face. He knew he should leave, let Minho finish washing off, but he couldn’t. Not when he was looking at him like Thomas was the only other person on Earth.

"Would you be mad if I kissed you?" For a second, Thomas wasn’t sure if he heard right; thinking maybe the water still pouring down on them had somehow changed the words. But Minho was still giving him that look. Thomas shook his head no.

Minho hesitated, as though he change his mind, before reaching up with a trembling hand to hold Thomas’s cheek. He brought their mouths together slowly, unsure at first, before kissing Thomas softly.

It was chaste, with no force or pressure, but somehow it still made Thomas weak to his knees. Made him want more; and there was. Like a dam had broken; any uncertainty they felt before was gone.

Thomas pushed Minho up against the tiled wall and kissed him forcefully. Both of his hands were in Minho’s hair, pulling at it roughly, trying to taste more of him; feel more of him.

He felt Minho’s hand slide down from his face to his waist; joining the other that was already tugging at the hem of Thomas’s shirt. Pulling away from Thomas, Minho lifted the waterlogged shirt off him and let it fall to the ground with a heavy thud. Grabbing Thomas by the hips, Minho pulled him close one more, grinding their groins together roughly. Sparks shot through Thomas body as heat filled his body.

Thomas moaned loudly, head falling to the side slightly, when Minho dipped his head down and began sucking on his neck. One hand slipped from Minho’s hair to his shoulder. Thomas gripped his shoulder tightly, his nails biting the skin. The little nips and licks were almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost, but not quite.

A jolt of pleasure shot up Thomas’s spine when a hand slipped down the back of his pants and squeezed. His hips jutted forward, pushing against Minho’s, as his fingers dragged down his shoulder. Using the small leverage he had, Minho pulled Thomas closer against him; grinding their groins together harder.

Thomas couldn’t breathe. Every inch of skin Minho touched, licked, and kiss felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t get enough.

Thrusting his forward, Thomas felt Minho’s arm wrap all the around him, pulling him impossibly close. Even if he wanted to pull away, Thomas didn’t think he’d be able to. Not when Minho was holding him so tightly.

Their hips pushed up against each other roughly once more, and then all Thomas could feel was mind-numbing pleasure. Moaning Minho’s name, Thomas body shuddered lightly while his heart raced. He still couldn’t breathe.

Minho came soon after. His moan was muffled muted against Thomas neck, the sound of causing his hair to stand on end. It was sinful, really, that moan. It was like an aphrodisiac; it sent tingles of of excitement through his body.

Minho slumped against the wall, panting quietly, as Thomas leaned against him. His legs felt like jelly. Resting his against Minho’s shoulder, Thomas was thankful for the arm currently around his waist. He wasn’t sure he could stand otherwise.

Smiling against Minho’s shoulder, Thomas let his arm hang limply at his side. Sighing lightly, he watched his breath cause goosebumps to appear on Minho skin before speaking. “I thought you wanted to someone more than five minutes before doing this kind of thing with them.”

Thomas felt, rather than heard, Minho laugh breathlessly. “You’re an exception to the rule.”

"Is that all I am?"

"No." Minho’s arm tightened slightly. "Not if you don’t want to be."

Thomas turned his head to see Minho staring at him. He hummed a bit before answering. “I don’t want to be.”

Minho nodded his head once before kissing Thomas on the temple soft. “Good.”


End file.
